Thicker Than Water
by Kitcat39
Summary: Preseries. A oneshot about Dartz spawned from the implication that he had servants before his current ones, and what happened to them.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Gi Oh**

**Warning: implied murder**

**AN: I wrote this because Dartz is just a fascinating character. Though he and his minions did not have a lot of screen time in the series, they still managed to become sympathetic, morally ambiguous, complex character. Dartz is also huge buckets of crazy sauce, which I hope I portrayed well in here.**

Thicker Than Water

Of all the many things Dartz had seen in the millennia he had spent wandering the corners of the earth, modern indoor plumbing was, in his opinion, one of the most wonderful. This thought brought a bit of a smile to his face as he stripped off his blood-soaked robes and sunk into a steaming hot bath, biting back a groan of pleasure. However, the sight of blood swirling through the water bent his expression into a slight frown. It seemed as if he would need to get some new servants. It was such a shame, really. They never seemed to last as long as they should have. However, there were plenty of fish in the sea, or so the saying went.

Dartz let out a sigh as the heat worked its magic, soothing his aching muscles and washing the grime from his skin. The water was soon tinted a slight murky pink which contrasted quite nicely with his pale blue locks. He tugged the ribbon from his hair and watched as strands of it fanned out through the tub, only to be hindered by scabs of clotting blood gluing them into nasty, knotted mats. He merely tutted and reached for the conditioner, another miracle of the modern age. Untangling his hair was something he was quite accustomed to. It was a familiar ritual, almost comfortingly so, as he had done it an uncountable number of times since the golden days of his reign over Atlantis. With hair like his it didn't take much for it to degenerate into a veritable bird's best, especially in the heat of battle. Well, this time didn't exactly count as a battle, did it?

This soothing action, almost meditative in nature, drew Dartz deeper and deeper into himself, opening his mind and making him more receptive to the whims and wishes of the Orichalcos. Soon, green light washed over him, glimmering under his eyelids like the sun's light on the sea of his homeland. Any jarring thoughts about all the things he had done were swept away in a verdant riptide. All was well, he knew, all went exactly according to plan.

One thought was a bit stubborn though. Dartz needed new servants. He could not finish his glorious mission alone. The end was approaching, coming much too close for comfort, and he needed help for when the day he had been waiting thousands of years for finally arrived. He grimaced slightly at this thought. The Orichalcos, like himself, despised humanity. Being dependent on such lowly creatures disgusted it as well as him. It was a relief when all he got was a dull throb in his head, a gentle prodding reminder to him that humans, though useful, were still wretched and evil, beasts to the core. The pain was promptly numbed by the Orichalcos, brushed away in a pulse of calming greenness, for this strange magic was fair and just, more that he could ever dream of being due to his utter, repulsive humanness.

Dartz came to and noticed that the bath water was cold. Shivering slightly, he began to rise from the tub, but was stopped by a sudden blinding flash of viridian. He fell back in, splashing water everywhere as a wave of green-tinted visions rushed into his mind. His future servants, hand-picked by the Orichalcos, flickered across his sight. Three this time, all boys, all young. A blond playing in a well-tended garden under an au pair's watchful eye. A brunet kicking another boy's teeth in while scrapping over a petty insult. A redhead comforting his crying little brother as their mother trains a gun on a door. No names were given. No names were needed. They were perfect for the job, or more accurately would become so, just like all the ones who came before them. He wondered what he had to do to gain their obedience. Another surge of visions answered him. Storms and islands, fire and prison, war and weaponry. It was all quite awful, what he was supposed to do. He knew and acknowledged that simple terrible fact. However, he had long since been immunized against these last lingering traces of morality. Sentiment only stood in his way.

Dartz rose from the icy water, his shivers devolving into full-blown shakes, purely from the chilly temperature of course. His hair, now smooth and sleek from his ministrations, clung to him like a second skin as rivulets of filthy water trickled down his body and joined with the puddles on the slick tile floor. He kicked the sodden pile of bloody clothes out of his way, noting that he would need to burn them later. They were useless to him now. Bloodstains were impossible to get out of the white and blue fabric, even with all the acrid soaps and foaming sprays that the salesmen of today insisted would help. He grabbed a spare set from his closet, throwing them on without a thought given to drying himself off. He was in a hurry. His servants were waiting.


End file.
